


Punch Me, Or Something!

by Innin



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Adventure II, Catharsis, Cunnilingus, F/M, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, The Author Regrets Nothing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innin/pseuds/Innin
Summary: While on night watch duty together, Sigrun and Onni clear the air between them. And then some.
Relationships: Sigrun Eide/Onni Hotakainen, background Tuuri Hotakainen/Sigrun Eide
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16
Collections: Season of Kink, Synchronised Screaming





	Punch Me, Or Something!

**Author's Note:**

> For the Synchronised Screaming generator prompt: "Onni, Sigrun, forget I said anything!, troubled thoughts, during a storm, bitter". Thanks for that, Anna, it was just the right combination for a fic that apparently wanted to be written very much.
> 
> Also for the "Rough Sex" square for my 2020 Season of Kink Bingo card.

The pines are shaking with wind against the dark sky, and Sigrun and Onni are keeping watch together while the rest of the team have crowded into the ramshackle shelter of an old summer house. 

They snuffed out the fire long ago, and Sigrun is as glad for her cloak to pull around her the same way Onni must be for his. It's August, nearing autumn in the Finnish wilds, and some of the gusts are chill. 

They sit in uncomfortable silence. There's a ghost standing between them that has Tuuri's shape, keeping them uneasily apart, and that's way beyond the language barrier they have. Onni shifts every now and then, a swivel of his head to peer into the dark with narrowed, gleaming eyes when the moon hits them from between torn-apart clouds. Sigrun thinks of an owl; she knows that that's Onni animal soul, whatever it was they were called in Finnish. It fits him. 

Still, he ignores her, and she knows why. She can't even blame him, strictly, even though she wishes he'd at least put things to rest instead of letting them simmer. Get them out of the way, instead of letting them hurt. Putting Tuuri to rest. 

All of that takes her back to _that night_ , the storm not least. By now there is pressure building inside her to say something, anything, to Onni, and even though her eyes stay dry through long practice, the thought of that failure, the casualty and the mourning that she never quite got to wrap up before being shoved into this adventure, well. What comes out is trite and stupid, because she's never been good with words like that, and Onni won't understand anyway. 

"Look, I'm sorry, okay! I know it's my fault Tuuri died. Captain takes the blame. If I could make it not happen, that's what I'd do, but I can't! So don't treat me like I'm a… a… whatever! Punch me, or something!" 

She's on her feet now, striding over to Onni with a nervous energy too insistent to be ignored. 

Onni gives her an alarmed look. He's sitting, she's standing in front of him, and she's seen him jump, even turned-away and cloak-wrapped as he is, at her mentioning his dead sister's name. 

"I loved her, okay!" she presses on. Now that the words started pouring, it's hard to force them back down. "Or, I don't know, maybe I still do! I'm definitely still beat-up, all the leadership crap Mikkel came up with to make me feel better doesn't really do fuck-all, even if I've gotten better at that stuff, it shouldn't have come with her having to get the Rash and drown herself! And I know it's all been because of my fucking arm, because if that hadn't gone busted and I hadn't been an idiot about it, she's probably still be around!" 

She yanks up her sleeve and thrusts out her arm, with the bite mark still visible in an oval of gnarly scars to hold under Onni's nose. He regards it for a moment, then slaps it aside, crosses his arms and rests them on his drawn-up knees. 

Sigrun's this close to boiling over now - there's got to be _something_ she can do that doesn't involve running into the forest and screaming out her frustrations until she's hoarse and all the beasts in a five-kilometer radius come flocking to their camp. 

She grabs Onni by the shoulders and yanks him to his feet. He follows, stumbling, and then his hands come up to grab the side of her face, fingers pressing onto her temples, and Sigrun goes still, heart beating painfully hollow in her throat. 

Onni is shorter than her, but he might as well be peering directly into her face, that's how seen and… known she feels. What the fuck is he even doing? She forces herself to keep her hands where they are, not pull Onni's away, break whatever… connection he's building. She remembers something about Emil mentioning that Lalli did something like this to him once, maybe it's the same thing?

It's weird how intimate it is. How warm Onni's fingertips are against her skin. 

"Stop talking about my sister," he finally says, his voice gone scratchy from lack of use - he's barely spoken ever since they found him, and there's the hitch of tears there, but what makes Sigrun do a double-take is that she can understand him. He's magicked her somehow. 

She guesses that means he can understand her too, now. And that opens the floodgates for good. Her feelings for Tuuri and about her failure and her duty and the expedition come pouring out like she's never had the opportunity to do so far, because she'd have trusted no one to listen and understand, but this is Tuuri's brother, and even if it's been a different kind of love, he loved her, too, carried responsibility, and blamed himself so much as to go on a self-destructive quest to find some measure of peace. 

They're not that different, and that's what floors her most of all. 

"Forget I said anything, okay?" 

Onni gives no sign that he will forget, but it seems like he's looking at her with different eyes once she's gotten it all out. 

By the end of it, they're still standing there, and both of them have tears in their eyes. She's breathing hard to keep them down; Onni isn't even trying. Fuck it all, she hates tears and sadness and misery, and she doesn't want to _feel_ like that. For the record, she hates it when others feel that way, too, and this isn't the sort of thing that can be solved the Viking way, with a shoulder-punch and some consolitary cheer-up words. 

She's not sure who broke the stare first, blinked, leaned in. Because then it's a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, and at least one of them is bleeding the taste of iron into Sigrun's mouth. Onni's an awful kisser, he's rough and greedy and bites her lower lip like he's going to eat her whole, and his hands slip from her temples into her hair and fist into it until she hisses with pain at the pull and burn on her scalp. She hooks her foot around his ankle, and they topple to the forest floor. 

The roar of the wind dims in Sigrun's ears. Her world gets narrower still than when Onni magicked her; now it's all need and impulse and instinct guiding her fingers to the clasp of his cloak, the hem of his shirt, his mouth, and shit, he curls his tongue around them like he's sucking cock, and that image is so unexpected that it jolts a whole new throb of need through Sigrun. Somewhere, dimly in the back of her mind she's aware of just how fucked-up this all is, a thank-you for trying to take care of his sister even though she's failed the same way he did, but when Onni's fingers pull her bra up and out of the way and the night wind hits her boobs and then his mouth follows, there really isn't much more thought left. 

He bites her nipple and she yelps, he's not gentle with her because he doesn't care to be or doesn't know how to be, it's nips and pinches and fingers digging into places where it's just this far from hurting. He finds old scars and the cusp of her hip and the buttons of her pants, and presses his face into her crotch even while he's working her underpants aside without taking them off. 

And oh fuck, he makes up for his terrible kissing up above down there. Or maybe she just likes - _really likes_ \- it rough. It's not long until Onni's tongue and fingers get her fucking herself against his mouth, and when he bites down somewhere near the juncture of her pussy and her inner thigh, a bright-sharp-sweet pain, it explodes behind her eyelids and she's done. 

She thinks about Tuuri while she's riding out the orgasm. She can't not, and she can't help wonder what her little Fuzzy-Head would say. She'd probably laugh hysterically hearing that _Sigrun_ slept with _Onni_ , and then go to erase that mental image from her brain. Maybe with a bottle of whatever Finns drink to get really really drunk. 

It's still on her mind when Sigrun's caught her breath and opens her eyes to those tattered clouds racing across the sky. When she's pulled her clothes back into place Onni's sitting up, his lips are wet, but that same old forbidding expression is back on his face, and even if Sigrun's all done and could wait a bit to go again, that's not fair to him. Besides, what the fuck was that, him eating her out like a fucking champion and then not wanting anything in return? She can't make sense of the guy, but she sees that he's so hard it's gotta be painful the way his cock is straining against his pants. 

"Hey," she says. "You want help with that?" She motions, and Onni gives a curt nod, but when she dips her head he yanks on her hair that she's pretty sure means "no" - the connection is gone now, and he's making no effort to re-establish any of the magic or even talk to her at all, but okay. She doesn't need that to show him a good time, do him a favour the way he did her. She's that fair. 

She jerks him off for a bit with her hand, and she's good at that and he likes it, she can hear from the way he's trying to quiet the grunts and moans that he's making, but that winds up not being enough. He's made her come, she's more than willing to return the thank-you.

It's still fucked up, but fair's fair.

Onni motions "up" to Sigrun in the end, and she winds up bracing herself against the rough bark of a pine tree with her pants around her ankles and Onni pushes into her from behind, and it's definitely been too long since she had anything decent between her legs like this, even if it's quick and the boring kind of rough, just a steady in-out motion that's more about Onni's pleasure than her own. It doesn't involve fingers or anything, and it's just when she thinks that it's starting to be good, maybe, his body stiffens against her back, and he pulls out hastily but not fast enough, and he comes over her butt and drips down the back of her legs. 

"Ew," she says, a bit breathless. That doesn't need translating, because Onni makes a noise that might just be the slightest embarrassment, he pulls out a handkerchief from some pocket and presses it into her hand intently before turning his back and tucking himself back in. 

While she cleans herself off, Onni resumes his position at watch near the extinguished campfire like nothing just happened between them. At least he's not crying any longer, and her own eyes are dry, too. 

That's something. Crying during sex - that would be weird. 

The storm's ebbing off as well, Sigrun notices when she's dressed again and smoothes down her hair to walk back over. The clouds are still racing across the sky in tatters, but down where the two of them are, the wind has abated, the same way the air cleared between the two of them. Probably. A bit.

She hopes.


End file.
